


Shop Brat Life: The Race

by Princesszellie



Series: The Shop Brat Life [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Mechanic!Au Carshop!AU Teen!Chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:30:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the son of the boss is hard enough without the undercover informers. Or- Chuck makes a bad decision and gets busted by the Becket's.<br/>Mechanic!Carshop!AU<br/>Written free form from a prompt.  1/?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shop Brat Life: The Race

**Author's Note:**

> This all happened after a wonderful conversation with Sonora  
> (this one to be exact ) http://sonora-coneja.tumblr.com/post/82244953568/princesszellie-replied-to-your-post-i-always-get
> 
> Just a kind of little warm up, it's been a long time since I've written anything other then financial reports.  
> Totally based on my life and experiences. My car's name was Serenity, and together we did lots of crap we shouldn't have and got busted more then I liked. My father was the boss and the mechanics were the worlds most effective informers- seriously they STILL blow me in to my father all the time. It's a trial. Seriously there is enough to write a half dozen of these.....and maybe I will.

Chuck stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was veiled beneath the baseball cap he had pulled low over his eyes. He knew this was going to go badly, perhaps very badly for him but he’d be damned if he’d give them the satisfaction of seeing him sweat.  
  
“All of the coolant hoses were loose; one literally came off in my hand.” Yancy said leaning against the bumper of the car and wiping the grease off his hands on an equally dirty rag.  
  
Herc cocked his head to one side and give Chuck that sidewise look that said he was headed for the deep end of the pool. “And how could that have possibly happened?”  
  
Chuck shrugged a shoulder noncommittally, “I dunno Dad, she’s old. You gave me a car that’s almost as old as I am…what do you expect?”  
  
“Some sense might be a start,” Raleigh commented from under hood. “There is only one way you could have created enough pressure to flush all your coolant out and trust me it doesn’t involve sense Boss.”

His father was really giving him the look now and Chuck couldn’t help a little fidget. Raleigh and Yancy worked for his dad at the dealership and usually they were cool guys. But today, today they were traitors. He gave the Becket brothers his most sinister teenage glare, daring them to continue. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Bullshit!” Yancy laughed.  


“Totally.” His brother agreed climbing out from under Striker. He grabbed the rag from his brother to wipe some stray coolant drops off his arm. “You wanna know my theory?”

“I would love too,” Herc locked eyes with Chuck, who went a noticeable shade paler.

“My guess is….” Raleigh started.  
  
“ _Our_ guess…” Yancy interrupted.

Raleigh rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, “Fine _our_ theory is that this good old rust-bucket had to be doing northwards of 100 mph to blow those hoses like that.”

Chuck couldn’t hide the sudden flush that rushed his cheeks as the lucky guess hit bulls eye. Damn his ginger genetics.

“What?” his father’s tone was incredulous.

“At _least_ 100, more than likely it was more, eh Charlie?” Yancy’s smile was sugar sweet just like his tone as he sent Chuck to his early grave.

Herc just stared at his son, “There is no way this ancient carcass could drag itself over 80, let alone 100 miles per hour.” He had baited the trap; now all he had to do was wait for the snap.  
  
“That’s not true, she purred right up to 80 no problem, and the ride is just as smooth at 105 as at 65 on open highway. No vibration, no whine, not one little protest.” There it was. It didn’t take long at all. The pride in Chuck’s voice was almost cute.  
  
He certainly was enjoying the Becket’s open mouth stares. “What? Striker’s old but she’s still solid.”

“Not if you keep driving it like that!” Raleigh threw the nasty rag at Chuck and laughed.  


“Called it. We are so good.” Yancy high-fived his brother like the idiot he was.  
  
Chuck didn’t dare look at Herc, he was a speed demon, not suicidal. But his father certainly could not be counted on to see the difference. Raleigh slammed Striker’s hood shut and dangled the keys in the Hansen’s direction, seeing who would make the move for them first.  
  
Herc continued to stare down his boy, “I should take your keys for this boy,” he growled. “Your mother would have a shit fit to knew what you did.”  
  
“Then don’t tell her, it can be our secret.” Chuck lunged for his keys before his father had a chance to actually make good on the threat.

“Chuck, you can’t do stuff like that. You could have gotten caught!” Herc sighed, and gave Raleigh a small nod allowing the keys to be released.  
  
“Or killed. By your own car no less.” Yancy offered helpfully and Chuck considered kicking him in the shin for his efforts.  
  
“Clearly I didn’t. And I won’t. Striker takes care of me.” He let his hand caress the fender affectionately.  
  
The collective eye rolling from the adults was galling but he didn’t care. It was time to make his escape before there were any more questions.  
  
Too late, “What were you doing anyway?” Raleigh dropped the keys into his open demanding palm.  


“Racing. Striker was the oldest car in the group, not a single one of the others was half her age.” He couldn’t help the swell of pride and a little shiver at the memory of the adrenaline. It had been glorious, dodging and passing the other cars on a 55 mph speed limit main line road. The brazen moves and the delightful magic of the possibility of police capture, or even better a chase was better than any drug. Not that he knew anything about that of course.

“Charles.” His father’s tone booked no arguments and he stopped mid door opening, “Don’t do it again.”  
  
Chuck smiled, “Okay Dad.” Yeah, it was way past time to put the shop in his rearview mirror. He started Striker and she purred like a kitten.  
  
“I mean it Charles.” Herc held the door open, “Someone could have gotten hurt or killed- including you. Don’t be stupid.”  
  
He let Chuck pull the door shut, and the Becket’s both took a step back remembering past experiences.

“I won didn’t I?” his smile was so innocent Herc wanted to believe in it, but he was his father’s son so he knew better then to assume Chuck’s halo was legit.

A small smile ghosted on Dad’s face, and Chuck knew he was off the hook. Sweetness.  
  
“Get out of here. And don’t tell you mother, I don’t want to deal with it.”  
  
Chuck threw a mock salute and tossed Striker into reverse at a speed that was generally frowned at on the shop floor. He waved once he cleared the bay doors and burned rubber out into the street.  
  
Herc watched feeling his hair greying in that very second.  
  
“You should let us put a restrictor plate on that sucker.” Yancy commented wryly and his brother chuckled.  
  
“I will think about it.” Herc sighed heavily, “Good work boys.” He slipped them each a 20 dollar bill, “Keep it up.”

 

  


 

 

 


End file.
